


One More Cup of Coffee

by Milzilla



Series: Caffeine [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milzilla/pseuds/Milzilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never called it dating, nor referred to Grantaire as his boyfriend, yet all of Enjolras' friends knew that was exactly what it was, and that was exactly who Grantaire had become.  [A sequel to Meet Me at the Coffeeshop].</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos to my R for the beta. xx

He never called it dating, nor referred to Grantaire as his boyfriend, yet all of Enjolras' friends knew that that was exactly what it was, and that was exactly who Grantaire had become. It had helped immensely that Grantaire seemed to slot into their group with great ease. He was already best friends with Courfeyrac, and had barely blinked when Joly had asked him for a summary of all the diseases he had ever contracted, and a list of all the shots he had ever received. (He'd given Joly the list two days after it had been asked for, and Joly had only had to question him about two of the things on his list).

_("So you've had the chicken pox and you haven't had a serious cold for over ... 4 years?"_

_"I think the alcohol tends to kill anything I come in contact with.")_

It also turned out that along with a tendency towards alcoholism, Grantaire was also sarcastic and cynical. He was able to irritate Enjolras with only a few words, but always soothed his biting words with kisses and free cups of coffee.

_("Did you hear about Senator Archambault?"_

_"The one who was caught swindling his department's money to use on prostitutes?" Combeferre had asked._

_Enjolras had nodded. "Disgraceful. What an idiot."_

_"Yes, it would have been far more respectable if he'd been using it to fund a holiday to Hawaii," Grantaire had said._

_Enjolras had turned to Grantaire, fury written in the line of his brow. "Be serious."_

_Grantaire had smiled and laughed softly, leaning over to press a kiss to Enjolras' lips. "I am wild."_

_Enjolras had not been able to call on his previous fury, and had instead turned to speak to Combeferre, who was watching him with an amused look.)_

They fought fiercely ("If you think my ideals are so useless then I don't think you should-" "Apollo, you know I didn't mean it like that I just-") which often ended in the slamming of doors. However, if it was Enjolras who had begun the fight, he would be at Grantaire's cafe the next morning before opening, waiting to greet his boyfriend and make amends. And if Grantaire had started the fight, he would be at Enjolras and Combeferre's apartment the next morning, with coffee and sweet pastries for all of them to share.

Grantaire had slotted into Enjolras' life with relative ease, except that Enjolras hadn’t met many of Grantaire’s friends, despite Grantaire having met all of Enjolras’.

Grantaire had brought one friend to Combeferre’s birthday drinks at the uni bar, a headstrong girl called Eponine. Eponine had taken a liking to Marius, despite all their warnings that he was absolutely smitten with a girl who had been at the student protest.

Grantaire insisted that he had few friends, and even fewer that he liked enough to introduce to Enjolras. It seemed as though Grantaire was always meant to be in their circle of friends.

\--

It was on a warm, spring afternoon that Enjolras brought Jehan to Grantaire's cafe.

Of all of his friends, Jehan was the one that Enjolras had worried most about introducing Grantaire to, and vice versa. And it wasn’t merely the fact that he and Jehan had a history; Enjolras wasn’t too worried about that. Where Grantaire was cynical and sarcastic, Jehan was almost as idealistic as Enjolras, and a Romantic. He was a great lover of poetry and as lovely as the flowers that he often weaved into his plait. Enjolras, though he never voiced such concerns to anyone, worried that Grantaire would prove cynical of Jehan's nature, and that Jehan would disapprove of Enjolras' cynic.

Of course, he needn't have worried.

"I'm a fan of Byron, to be honest," Grantaire said as he pushed a caramel latte across to Jehan and then sat down. "The man was a bad arse, and a fantastic poet."

"I suppose you've read Don Juan then?" Jehan asked, the sleeves of his woollen jumper sliding down over his hands as he reached to pick up his cup.

"Three times," Grantaire replied with a smile. "Depicting him as a man easily seduced, as opposed to a man who seduces? Brilliant."

“Yes, exactly,” Jehan nodded, and began to talk about Byron’s other poetry, asking for Grantaire’s opinion, and launching into a discussion of how Marius’ recent venture into romance resembled such ballads.

Enjolras leant back in his chair and sipped his coffee, unable to keep the smile off of his face as he watched Grantaire and Jehan talk.

When they had to leave to get back to campus, Jehan pecked Grantaire lightly on the lips in a goodbye, before slipping his arm around Enjolras’ own and pulling the bemused blonde out of the cafe.

“He’s beautiful,” Jehan said as they walked towards their campus.

“I quite like him,” Enjolras admitted.

“I’m going to write a poem about his eyes when I get to class,” Jehan promised with a grin.

An hour later, as Enjolras listened to a lecturer discuss ethics and privacy, he was distracted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. Sure of who it was, he reached to take it out, reading the text.

[Jehan] _as deep as the sea_

_colour beyond noun_

_with light enough to float_

_yet all I wish is to drown_

_xx_

[Enjolras] _They are very blue._

[Jehan] _I’ve written an entire ballad about you shagging_

[Jehan] _But I didn’t know whether you’d done that or not_

Enjolras stared at the phone for a good few moments before he could reply.

[Enjolras] _Not as such._

Jehan didn’t reply to that text, but he did receive a text from Grantaire a few minutes later.

[R] _shud i b wrried that jehan is snding me love poetry?_

Enjolras had to stifle a laugh, remembering that he was in the middle of a lecture.

[Enjolras] _No, that’s just what he does. As well as the kissing_

[R] _aaaaaaaah_

\--

Despite popular opinion amongst his friends, Enjolras _was_ aware of sex. He knew what it was, numerous ways people could engage in the act and how to ask for it. Jehan knew that better than anyone, as the two had dated briefly before realising that they made far better friends than lovers.

People often asked him if he was waiting for the right person, if he was just too busy, if he wasn't interested and he told them every time in no uncertain terms to sod off. The subject of sex had never been an issue to Enjolras, and he refused to make it so. But after a month of dating Grantaire, Enjolras was about ready to push his boyfriend against the nearest flat surface and have his way with him.

Enjolras approached everything in his life with fierce determination. Once he had set his mind on a path or action, he was almost single-minded in his pursuit of it. This was no different.

He’d waited, given Grantaire time to bring up the subject, let hands wonder while they were making out on the couch in his apartment, Grantaire never pushed.

The closest they had ever gotten was in one such instance, when Grantaire came over to watch V for Vendetta with Enjolras’ insistence that he just hadn’t watched it right the first time. They ended up tangled together horizontally halfway through the movie, Enjolras’ hands holding Grantaire’s hips as the other leaned over to kiss him.

They were both hard; Enjolras could feel Grantaire against his thigh and the knowledge sent a shock up his spine, causing him to tip his head back and gasp lightly, a noise that he would be utterly embarrassed about later.

He didn’t think too much about it in the present though, as Grantaire had echoed with a breathless noise of his own, and Enjolras vaguely realised that Grantaire was making little aborted half-movements of his hips, brushing against Enjolras’ own. Wanting to encourage this behaviour, Enjolras pressed his fingers lightly into Grantaire’s hips, lifting his hips to meet Grantaire’s. Just as he began to get a rhythm going, Grantaire broke away, glancing towards the TV.

“We’re missing the movie,” he said breathlessly.

Enjolras opened his mouth to argue that he didn’t care, realised how completely ridiculous that sounded, and then nodded. “You did promise to pay attention.”

“I think my opinion of it has improved significantly through this viewing,” Grantaire said with a smirk, before pushing himself off of Enjolras and back onto the other side of the couch.

And then, despite the fact that it was the closest that they had come to anything, the two of them proceeded to watch through the rest of V for Vendetta, with only half of Enjolras’ usual commentary.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’ve asked Grantaire to host my birthday party,” Jehan said one afternoon, as he was curled up next to Combeferre on the couch.

Enjolras’ head snapped around to look at him. “Why? Have you seen his apartment because – “

“Not his apartment,” Jehan laughed; a soft, pleasant sound. “At the cafe.”

Enjolras’ eyes narrowed. “Can you do that?”

Jehan shrugged, eliciting an ‘oof’ from Combeferre, who was reading and had been jostled by the movement.

“I don’t think it’s something they’d normally do,” Jehan admitted. “But I went in yesterday with Courfeyrac and spoke to Grantaire. He said he’d be more than happy to cater.”

“I thought you only had themed parties,” Combeferre spoke without taking his eyes of his book. “What will the theme be this year?”

“I want the entire coffee shop atmosphere,” Jehan said. “We can have a grown up tea party. Oh! Alice in Wonderland theme; perfect.”

“Oh lord,” Combeferre sighed, but he just turned the page of his book and kept reading.

\--

Like Jehan had told them, Grantaire had promised to cater Jehan’s birthday party. He told Enjolras that there was no issue; Jehan wanted to have the party on a Sunday night, when the cafe would usually have been closed. Everything was paid for officially, and Grantaire was more than happy to do it.

Enjolras arrived with the birthday boy, after attempting to leave his apartment without a costume. Jehan had accosted him at the door and forced him back inside, having brought over a spare costume ‘just in case’ Enjolras had forgotten to wear one.

Jehan was dressed as Alice himself, in a pretty blue dress with a white apron, and white tights and black shoes. His soft orange hair was loose so that it cascaded over his shoulders, and a neat little black headband and bow completed the costume.

“Jehan, you’re early.” Enjolras greeted him at the door, “And you look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Jehan gave a small curtsey before gesturing to Enjolras. “Who are you going as, my school teacher?”

Enjolras looked down at his plain clothes. “I may have – run out of time to put together a decent costume.”

Jehan tutted. “You can’t come to the party if you’re not in costume. It’s a good thing I brought a spare.”

“A spare?” Enjolras raised an eyebrow. “Will this be like the time you dressed me in the ‘spare’ pirate costume?”

“Not at all,” Jehan grinned, and then ushered Enjolras back inside. “Sit down. We’ve got half an hour.”

\--

Twenty minutes later, Enjolras was almost certain that Jehan had planned the entire thing. Not only had he brought a “spare” costume with him, he had also brought along the necessary make-up required to complete the look. The outfit itself fit Enjolras as though it was tailored to his size exactly, and was intricately made, as though someone had spent a great deal of time on it.

When Jehan was done with him, Enjolras stood in the middle of the apartment with one of the most beautiful costumes he had ever seen, or worn.

“You’re the Griffin!” Jehan announced, looking over his masterpiece with glee. “What do you think?”

Enjolras walked to his room, where he had a full length mirror he could observe the costume closely. He ran his fingers over the golden, high-waist jacket that was buttoned tight over a crisp white shirt, matching the golden spray-painted jeans (or at least he assumed, where did one _buy_ gold jeans?). The sleeves of the jacket went to his wrists, but were covered in feathers from hand to shoulder blade to imitate shiny, golden wings.

“Jehan,” Enjolras turned to speak to his friend. “I can’t help but feel as though this wasn’t just a spare – “

“Maybe it wasn’t,” Jehan dismissed the comment with a wave and a sweet smile. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He reached into the bag he had on his shoulder and pulled out a plastic bag, out of which he pulled a golden, beaked mask with darkened feathers around the eyes. “Finishing touch,” he said, and leaned forward to put the mask on Enjolras’ face, securing it with nimble fingers.

He stepped back to look Enjolras up and down, admiring his work. “There,” he said. “And look at that, it’s time to leave. Looks like we’ll be right on time.”

Enjolras tried to fix Jehan with a stare, but even he had to admit it that it was quite a glorious costume, and that Jehan had managed to outdo himself in both costume making and planning this time.

“Right,” he said, grabbing his bag on the way out of his room. “Let’s go then.”

\--

The cafe looked amazing. True to his word, Grantaire had wasted no effort in creating the atmosphere that Jehan wanted for his party. The lights were dimmed and covered in cellophane to cast different colours around the cafe, illuminating the makeshift toadstools and flowers with drawn on faces. The tables had been arranged in a long line in the middle of the cafe, and were covered in an assortment of cups, plates, teapots, little bottles that said ‘drink me’, plates of food that said ‘eat me’ and in the middle of the tables, one large cake.

Even Enjolras was impressed by the display, but his mind was truly made up when he saw how pleased Jehan was by the whole thing. The boy in question smiled at Enjolras before moving to greet Combeferre, who was dressed in an outfit that looked remarkably like Enjolras’ own costume only his jacket was full length, just touching the top of his boots, and was a remarkable shade of blue. He didn’t have a mask but wore a headband with two little antennae hanging over his head, and he held a pipe in his teeth. Enjolras found himself wondering if Jehan had given Combeferre a “spare” outfit as well.

Combeferre stood with Courfeyrac, and it looked as though he _had_ made his own costume. He was wearing an obscene cat costume; a skin-tight purple and pink unitard, with only a small pair of purple shorts, which his fluffy tail hung off. The matching fluffy paws, ears and boots did nothing to make the outfit look any less ridiculous.

Enjolras waved to the two as he followed Jehan.

“Comb,” he nodded at Combeferre in approval, and then raised an eyebrow at Courfeyrac. “Courf.”

Courfeyrac just grinned and clapped his fluffy paws together. “You look pretty splendid, Enjy. Last I heard, you didn’t have a costume.” He motioned to Combeferre.

Enjolras frowned at Combeferre. “Traitor.”

Combeferre shrugged. “You seemed to do alright.”

“He had some help,” Jehan told them, and they all nodded their heads in understanding.

Enjolras scoffed. “Where is Grantaire?”

“ _R_ is in the back,” Courfeyrac motioned to the door behind the counter. “Making scones or something, he said.”

“Making scones,” Enjolras echoed the words with disbelief. He turned to walk towards the back room where Grantaire was supposed to be, before abruptly realising that that was not something he would have even thought about doing a month ago. It stopped him in his tracks, long enough for Feuilly and Bahorel to come up and greet him.

Feuilly was dressed as the top half of what appeared to be a dragon. His costume had a hood that hung behind him with what Enjolras assumed was a dragon’s face. Which meant that... yes, Bahorel was dressed as the tail end of the creature. Enjolras smiled, despite himself.

“Ahh, the Griffin. Should’ve known Jehan would dress you like that,” Feuilly greeted him with a slap on his shoulder.

“Does everyone expect Jehan to dress me for these things?” Enjolras asked, and his friends just laughed.

“Least you got a good deal,” Bahorel told him. “I get to be the Jabberwocky’s arse.”

“Ah.” Realisation dawned on Enjolras’ face. Of course that was what they’d come as. “You make a fine arse,” Enjolras told him, which caused Bahorel to burst into uncontrollable laughter. Enjolras laughed for a moment as well, and then motioned to the counter where he had been headed before. “I’m just going to go and –“

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Feuilly waved his hand. “He disappeared twenty minutes ago to bake something or butter buns.”

This caused a new wave of laughter to erupt from Bahorel, and Enjolras made his way over to the counter before he had to witness Bahorel falling to the floor in a puddle of high-pitched giggles.

He knocked on the door that led to a little kitchen, a place he had only been allowed once before when he had stuck around to wait for Grantaire at closing time, and Grantaire had beckoned Enjolras into the room while he cleaned up.

He pushed on the door and let it swing open, stepping inside the kitchen.

“Courf I told you that he’ll like-“ Grantaire stopped mid-sentence as he turned around and realised that it wasn’t Courfeyrac he was addressing.

Grantaire’s eyes swept over him with a thoroughness that Enjolras could almost feel but he couldn’t bring himself to comment on the behaviour, as he was doing the same thing himself.

Grantaire’s costume was not nearly as obscene as Courfeyrac’s, but to someone who had been imagining him naked for the better part of a month, it was arguably worse. The tight jeans were only the beginning; Enjolras could never have been prepared for the image of Grantaire in a smart grey waistcoat, layered over a ridiculously purple, ruffled shirt. His brown tap hat, complete with the 10/6 fraction, sat on top of his hair, which looked even curlier than usual.

“Apollo.”

The word broke Enjolras from his thoughts, and he focused back on Grantaire’s face. Grantaire, who was looking at him expectantly, a little smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“The cafe looks brilliant,” Enjolras said quickly, stepping towards Grantaire, who he now realised had flour all over his hands and a little on his face.

“I can’t take all the credit,” Grantaire said, but he was grinning proudly. “Jehan told me what he wanted, Courfeyrac and Combeferre helped with the setting up, and a lot of the food is ordered in. Not all of it though!” He motioned to the bench that they stood next to, and the plate of butter and jam covered scones that sat there.

“You bake?”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion I suppose,” Grantaire joked, clapping his hands together to get rid of the flour they were covered in.

Enjolras reached over and wiped away from of the flour on Grantaire’s face, and felt the other go very still beside him. When it was gone, Enjolras leant forward to press his lips against Grantaire’s, lingering there for a few moments before pulling back again.

“Your costume looks wonderful,” he said.

“And yours looks amazing,” Grantaire responded as he reached over to run his fingers down the sleeve of the golden jacket. “But you were supposed to come as a character from Wonderland, not as yourself, Apollo.”

Enjolras let out a soft laugh at that. “Are you finished in here? People are arriving.”

“Ah.” Grantaire turned to pick up the plate of scones, before motioning to the door. “Lead the way.”

Enjolras gave a little bow of his head and then moved to open the door for Grantaire.

Grantaire looked him over once more before stepping forward. “The Griffin though, right?”

“Enjy, you found R!” Courfeyrac greeted them when they walked out.

Enjolras grimaced at both of the nicknames, though he had been slipping up more often and referring to Grantaire as R.

“He found me,” Grantaire spoke before Enjolras could, walking to the tables to place the plate of scones there. “Alright, that’s it. Is everyone here?”

 Enjolras turned to look around the cafe, where he could see their friends gathered. Musichetta had appeared as the Queen of Hearts, with Bossuet as the King of Hearts on one arm and Joly as the White Rabbit on her other arm. Eponine was had also arrived, dressed as the Dormouse. She had been invited because as well as being found agreeable by all of them, Jehan was convinced that Combeferre fancied her a little. And they all knew better than to argue with Jehan’s attempts at match making, mostly because they turned out to be right.

Marius was here as well, dressed in an all white suit, along with his new girlfriend Cosette, and dressed in a beautiful white dress. They all got along with Cosette. She and Marius had met at the rally meet-up and after a long courtship that they had all given him flack about, the two had started dating. Cosette was a self-assured girl who could defeat any of them on movie trivia or women’s rights, and had a great fondness for Marius.

“That looks like everyone,” Enjolras nodded, after his silent head count.

Grantaire grinned at him, and Enjolras only had a moment to wonder what he was up to, before he turned to the group of people with his arms wide open.

“People, people!” He called out, motioning to the tables laid out in the middle of the cafe. “I do declare the beginning of tea time!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Jehan's party was originally going to be Game of Thrones centred, but that seems to be a bit of a common theme in modern Les Mis fics? Anywho, a tea party fit in better with the cafe/coffee shop theme c: 
> 
> Thanks to all for your comments/kudos! C: Constructive critisism/bribes to include your favourite things are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic had to be changed to M for mature! So, warning for sexytimes.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Enjolras said as he waved to Combeferre, the last to leave besides himself and Grantaire.

He closed the door of the cafe with a sigh, tired but pleased. The party had been a complete success, and Jehan had smiled the whole time. Grantaire had played his role as host and Mad Hatter so well that Enjolras had even chosen to let slide the fact that he had seen his boyfriend pouring something from his flask into his tea cup.

“Everyone gone?” Grantaire called out from behind the corner.

“Yes, that’s everyone,” Enjolras replied, stopping to turn a chair over and place it on a table on his way over to Grantaire.

“I think that went pretty well, don’t you think?” Grantaire asked from where he was wiping down the bench. “I’ve only had one broken cup, and Bossuet apologised for a good ten minutes over that.”

“Yes, it was quite the success,” Enjolras agreed, stopping in front of Grantaire. “I was quite impressed.”

Grantaire dropped the cloth he had been cleaning with into the skin and then turned to look at Enjolras. “Didn’t think I could pull it off, Apollo?”

“I had no doubt that you could,” Enjolras said. “I just didn’t know I’d enjoy watching you so very much.”

Grantaire had him against the counter in a matter of seconds, his fingers spread against Enjolras' hips and pressing through his shirt. He kissed him gently, almost as though he was wary of every action he took, which was a complete contrast to the way his knee was slipping between Enjolras' thighs.

Enjolras raised his hands, his fingers grabbing onto those black curls that he so often found himself thinking of, as he responded to Grantaire's kiss. When the need for sufficient air became apparent, Enjolras broke away with a gasp, and was pleased to note that Grantaire was breathing just as heavily as he was, if not more.

"This was nice of you," he said, threading his fingers through Grantaire's hair. He caught himself halfway through the motion and stopped, letting his hands fall to Grantaire's shoulders.

"Snogging you against the counter?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras threw his head back, a genuine laugh escaping his lips. Grantaire took the opportunity to lean forward and nip gently at the exposed line of Enjolras' neck, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the other boy.

"No," Enjolras breathed, bringing his gaze back to focus on Grantaire. "Catering Jehan's party. He had a fantastic time."

"He said he wanted the genuine coffee shop experience," Grantaire shrugged, though he was beaming. "Plus, Courfeyrac practically begged me. Said that maybe the cafe would work its magic on him."

"He did?"

"If he and Jehan holding hands when they left is any indication, I'd say it went well," Grantaire snorted.

Enjolras watched him for a moment, lost in thought. Grantaire, who was used to his bouts of silence by now, waited patiently. He didn't have to wait long though as moments later, Enjolras looked him in the eye and said, "I think you should take me home."

Grantaire blinked, and then quickly took a step back, his hands dropping from Enjolras' waist. "Ah, right," he said. "Of course. I'll just close up the shop and -"

"Grantaire." Enjolras spoke firmly, standing his ground. Grantaire stopped. "I meant – Combeferre won’t be at the apartment tonight."

"Oh." Grantaire processed this information, his eyes widening slowly. " _Oh."_

Enjolras refused to blush in response to that, but it was very close. He ducked his head for a moment to regain what composure he'd originally had, and then looked up at Grantaire again. "I'll meet you outside once you've closed up?"

"I -yes," Grantaire nodded, though he didn't seem to be all there. "Yes. Five minutes."

Enjolras nodded, pushed away from the counter, and made his way outside.

They made pointless chatter on their way to Enjolras’ apartment which Enjolras despised. He thought that all conversation should hold meaning, and aimed to never have meaningless dribble escape his lips. They talked a little about Enjolras’ latest talks with the school’s officials regarding their student rally, before lapsing into silence for the rest of the walk.

Enjolras opened the door to his apartment with practiced carefulness, and would vehemently deny that his fingers shook a little. The door opened at last and he stepped back to allow Grantaire to walk in first, walking in after him.

He closed the door and locked it, turning to face Grantaire, who was watching him as though he might evaporate at any second.

“Kiss me,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire fell forward like he was drawn by some invisible force, pressing against Enjolras instantly.

He missed at first, clumsy with anticipation, and ended up pressing a kiss to Enjolras’ bottom lip. He pulled back and laughed, causing Enjolras to laugh quietly as well. The tension seemed to be broken, and they surged forward again, lips capturing their target this time.

Enjolras gripped at Grantaire’s hips as he pressed hard kisses to the other’s lips, which were open wide in surprise.

“Come on. We’re not doing this in here,” Enjolras said as he broke away, already breathing harshly. Grantaire stared at him in wonder, barely registering that he was being dragged to Enjolras’ bedroom by the hand.

“Have you –“ Grantaire licked his lips as Enjolras closed the bedroom door behind them, pulling Grantaire close to him again. “Have you thought about this, Apollo?”

Enjolras leaned down to capture the other’s lips again, hands moving to his chest, fingers trying to find skin to touch. “Of course I have. Are you saying you haven’t?”

“I didn’t know you wanted – _god_ – you’re usually so forward about what you want. Last week you told Marius to shut up and go home if he didn’t stop talking about –“ he was cut off by another fierce kiss from Enjolras.

“I wasn’t quite sure how to approach this with you,” Enjolras admitted as he popped the buttons on Grantaire’s waistcoat, and then began to work on the buttons of his shirt. “I’m never sure with you.”

Grantaire looked stunned by this information, so stunned that it took him a few moments to realise that Enjolras was trying to push his shirt and the waist coat over his shoulders. “But you wanted to?” he asked as he helped get the garments off his body.

“The entire time.” Enjolras said, stepping back to undo the buttons of his own jacket and shirt.

“Oh my god come here.” Grantaire stepped forward to push the garments off of Enjolras, letting them fall to the ground. He sucked in a deep breath as he reached out to place his hand against Enjolras’ chest, letting his fingers fan out against his exposed skin. He leaned down to press his lips to the spot just above his fingers.

Enjolras reached up to cup Grantaire’s cheek, gently pulling the other’s face up so that he could kiss him again. “There’ll be time for that later. Right now I want you in – well, fewer clothes, to begin with.”

“If I live through the first time, _shit_.” Grantaire muttered as he fumbled with his jeans.

“Language, Grantaire. Really.”

Grantaire, left only in green, ratty, old boxers, looked at Enjolras. “I’ve wondered about that,” he said, stepping forward and tugging at the button on Enjolras’ gold jeans until it popped open.

“About what?”

“Your aversion to swearing.” Grabbing hold of Enjolras’ jeans, Grantaire slipped down onto his knees, and tugged the jeans down as far as they would go while Enjolras was standing, and Enjolras’ briefs followed. He looked up at Enjolras then, the edges of his mouth curling into a smirk, as he reached up to take Enjolras’ cock in his hand. “Wondered if I could get you to forget your own rule...” he muttered, leaning forward.

Enjolras opened his mouth to try and speak, but the words were lost in a groan when Grantaire’s lips wrapped around the head of Enjolras’ cock. Enjolras’ hands curled into fists by his sides as Grantaire sucked gently, before pulling off to lick a wet stripe from tip to base.

“Mmm,” Grantaire murmured. “Thought about this.”

Enjolras’ only response to that was a sound that wasn’t exactly a moan, but it wasn’t a word either. Grantaire just grinned triumphantly as he wrapped his lips back around the head of Enjolras’ cock and pushed his head forward, cheeks hollowing as he took him deeper.

Enjolras’ nails were digging into the flesh of his palm, his bottom lip, trapped between his teeth, blood red with the effort of staying quiet. And then all it took was Grantaire’s tongue, flicking against the underside of his cock, for Enjolras to bite out.

“ _Fucking christ, Grantaire,”_ escaped his lips, as one hand flew to grip Grantaire’s curls, holding on for dear life. Grantaire gave one last suck before pulling backwards with a wet pop, his self-satisfied grin all too evident on his face.

“’Knew I could do it,” he said, smug, and Enjolras let out a groan of frustration.

“Yes, very good. You win,” the blonde said, hand dropping from Grantaire’s hair to trace his thumb over Grantaire’s lips, almost as red as his own. “Now fuck me.”

Grantaire froze, looking as though his brain had just short-circuited, and Enjolras panicked momentarily that he had said the wrong thing, but kept his gaze steady and determined.

“There’s –“ Grantaire said after a moment. “We need to – _yes._ ” He stood up, leaning forward to press a furious kiss to Enjolras’ lips. “If you’re sure.”

Enjolras pinned him with a look of exasperation. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about this for _weeks_. Now wipe that look off your face and let’s – the bed.”

He motioned with one hand in the direction of his bed, and moved towards it with a grace that should not have been possible from someone who had to step out of their clothes in order to move. Grantaire watched him go for a few moments before shaking his head.

“You gonna be this bossy the whole time?” He asked with a smirk.

“If you’d like that,” Enjolras shrugged, grinning at the way that Grantaire just stared at him. “ _Boxers,_ Grantaire.”

“Wha – oh.” Grantaire hooked his fingers past the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down his legs, stepping out of them and looking up to find that Enjolras had sat himself on the bed.

Enjolras bit his lip as Grantaire approached him, reaching out to run his hands down the other’s sides, pulling him onto the bed.

They were neither fast nor slow, hurried nor drawn out. At some point, Grantaire dropped the lube in his eagerness, and there was a moment where he had to dive off the bed to find a condom, only to realise that Enjolras had actually been holding one. Both moments caused Enjolras to laugh, his belly shaking. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh during sex, couldn’t remember a time where he’d had to think about it, but he heard Grantaire let out a gruff laugh, begrudgingly amused, so it all seemed okay.

They weren’t laughing later however, when Grantaire slowly pushed inside Enjolras, one hand next to Enjolras’ shoulder as he braced himself over his boyfriend.

“Is this –are you –“ Grantaire tried to get out, but he seemed incapable of getting the words out, so Enjolras nodded his head.

“Yes it’s – just been a little while. Give me a minute.” His hands slid up Grantaire’s arms to grip at his shoulders. “How on earth did you manage these? You’re a barista.”

Grantaire dropped his head and let out a breathless, fond laugh. “You pick now to ask?” When Enjolras’ fingers only tightened, Grantaire continued. “Kickboxing. Gives you good core strength.”

“Kickboxing..” Enjolras considered that for a moment, and then took in a deep breath. “That’s very attractive. You can move now.”

“Oh – okay.” He took a moment to catch up, but soon Grantaire was pulling out slowly, the sensation causing him to choke out a groan. “Are you sure that you’re rea – I mean you’re not –“

“Yes, please.” Enjolras encouraged him with the scrape of his nails, a subtle lift of his hips. “It feels good. _Please._ ”

Grantaire didn’t seem to know what to do with that, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping his movements slow, but he pressed in slow, dragging a quiet whimper from the blonde beneath him.

It wasn’t entirely graceful, but where one would fumble, the other compensated with strong arms or a well-timed thrust. All too soon, Enjolras was frantically clutching at Grantaire’s shoulders, his legs around Grantaire’s waist, and his head tipped back as he panted. Grantaire’s hand was wrapped around Enjolras’ cock, his hand trying to match the rhythm of his erratic thrusts as Enjolras arched his back and came between them.

Grantaire followed moments later, curving over Enjolras and burying his face in the other’s neck as he groaned, fingers tight on Enjolras' pale hips.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Grantaire fitting snugly between Enjolras’ legs, Enjolras running his hands gently down Grantaire’s back.

“I think I’d like to fuck you next time,” Enjolras spoke into the quiet, voice still a little shaky. “If you’d be up for it.”

Grantaire’s only response was to laugh gently and kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so terribly sorry that this took so long. This chapter goes out to everyone who sent me messages about getting my butt in gear. As always, a big shout out to my best friend for combing this for mistakes. xx


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